Hold the Formation
by gurj14
Summary: First they were best friends, then best friends with benefits, then in love but still best friends with benefits, and then finally girlfriends with added benefits. Things may have gotten too serious too soon for Brittany and too good to be true for Santana. (Season 4 Brittana rewrite) Warnings for sexual situations and bad language.
1. Prologue

_****_**Disclaimer:** I'm just a fan, I do not own glee or it's characters.

**A/N- **Hey all, this story is un-beta'd so please don't mind the errors, sometimes I miss something when I'm reading over it.

The story is rated as 'drama' but I'm leaning towards a humorous drama.

Enjoy! :)

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_**Prologue**_

The Lopez and Pierce family history started with a young Jonathon Pierce. Drunk and merry, he cackled and howled with his white friends in their favourite bar at the sight of Christiano Lopez mopping up their spilt drinks.

"Fucking Mexicans, in our country," he was slamming a hand on the table, fully aware that Christiano could understand English. "At least you serve us our beer, but a dog could do that too."

Jonathon Pierce got red in the face when he laughed at the way Christiano Lopez ducked his head in fear of pissing him off.

Christiano could not afford to lose this job, so week after week he cleaned the bar and worked his ass off to serve the racist men in Lima, Ohio. He had a wife and kids that depended on his low wages, he was a good religious man with an honest heart, and he saw the bigger picture: a future for his family.

Secretly, he spit in their beer.

Not-so-secretly, he raised his kids with an emphasis on education. Jonathon Pierce worked construction and Christiano soon owned the bar he had worked in, relishing the day he had a right to refuse service to the cackling red-faced asshole. They never saw each other again.

Many years later, nerdy sophomore Santiago Lopez got the best grades in McKinley High School and joined jazz band to play the drums. Popular senior, Bradford Pierce, who won the school's championship game with his golden arm in football routinely shoved Santiago into lockers and knocked his textbooks down.

"Nerd," he would snigger with his football friends and echo racism his father ranted at night, "go back to Lima Heights, to your Mexican flock."

Lima Heights was for the poor, blue-collared immigration folk that were beneath most students at McKinley High School.

Santiago was different from other kids bullied by Bradford, however. He would talk back and give Bradford smug smiles of his own, giving as good as he got. "I know two languages, you hardly know _one_."

Bradford would choke him against a locker, "at least I can get a fucking date, and the only action you get is that fat-ass Rita."

Any other day and the two would glare and go about their business, but on that particular day Santiago had the balls to taunt him with what the whole school knew, "heard you got your girlfriend pregnant. How _classy_. Ruin her life as well as yours!"

Bradford Pierce was red-faced as he socked him in the jaw, relishing how Santiago Lopez collapsed to the ground from the blow.

Weeks later, Bradford had to drop out of school and work construction to pay for the upcoming baby when Susan's parents kicked her out. Susan Doyle was teased and berated by all, and Santiago felt bad for her that he actually helped her study for a math test so she could graduate.

A generation later, Santana Lopez met Brittany S. Pierce at cheerleading camp. Women in Brittany's family were accustomed to cheerleading and Santana had been in gymnastics for awhile, deciding that if she was going to attend McKinley High instead of Lima Heights High, she should at least attempt to be part of the famous Cheerio's that made it on _Fox Sports Net._

Sue Sylvester's Cheerios were a Lima pride. Santana had seen the special treatment they got around town from simply wearing their red and white uniforms while Brittany's mother was one of the important people that funded the Cheerio's booster club and urged her daughter into the sport via enthusiasm and agreeing to let the girl take dance classes.

When they met, Santana overheard girls calling Brittany 'stupid' and giggling about how the blonde had believed them when they said condoms were balloons. Santana noticed how the blonde's eyes watered with tears because she could hear what the other girls were saying, and in that split second she did something she had never done before. She stood up for someone other than herself. She told them to 'shut the fuck up and leave her alone' and the girls scattered off quickly.

"Th-thanks," Brittany wiped at her eyes. "But they're right… I'm stupid."

"No you're not," Santana had been watching the blonde during the first week of camp because there was something so captivating about her.

"How can you say that," Brittany looked confused, "you don't know me… they go to school with me and-and… everyone thinks I'm stupid there too."

Santana shook her head and smiled, admiring the way sunlight reflected off of gorgeous blonde hair. "You're the best here, they're just afraid of how amazing you are."

Brittany smiles, "you really think that?"

"Ugh… yeah. Totally. I bet you'll be the only freshman to make Coach Sue's Cheerio's."

Brittany S. Pierce turns red-faced from shyness, and Santana Lopez ducks her chin and avoids eye contact because she's afraid she's revealed too much. She knows the way she's been staring at Brittany isn't entirely normal, and sometimes she stares at other girls in ways that are wrong and frighten her.

When Brittany smiles at her though, bright blue eyes shimmering and teeth on display, Santana finds the courage to make eye contact again and return the smile.

"I'm Brittany," she sticks out her hand.

"Santana," she shakes the gentle hand, butterflies swimming in her stomach.

"You're like, super pretty," Brittany informs her, starting off their beautiful friendship.

Just over three years later, Santana Lopez was outed to the state of Ohio through an ad campaign and all of Lima knew she was dating Brittany S. Pierce.

OOO

The grocery store in Lima Heights Adjacent always had more Hispanic people than white, but one thing had never changed throughout Santana's childhood: people stared at her.

At first it was because she was the adorable daughter of the community's doctor, the girl boys fell in love with and girls wanted to be. They lived in one of four large houses in Lima Heights, wore noticeably nicer clothes, drove luxurious cars… and hell, she was as gorgeous as her mother and had her father's tan skin and wit.

People were jealous, her father would say to explain the stares.

Appearance is everything, her mother would correct.

For her parents, the way they were perceived always meant a lot. It was why coming out of the closet was so scary. She never in a million years thought her parents would still love her. She thought they would disown her but _they didn't_. She thought her grandmother would still love her but she didn't.

Abuela had disappointed her, but the sad thing was Santana still craved to be welcomed back.

It was Catch-22 that way. Abuela's genuine hugs were like a ghost that haunted her, and her parents hung around more. It was both awkward and comforting that the parental figures who were hardly there in her childhood had stepped up to love her when the woman that pretty much raised her told her to beat it.

Her grandmother had been there for her when Santana was the unlucky young woman who managed to be that 0.5% statistic for breast cancer while her parents hardly blinked and eye and paid the medical bills.

Now, as she walked towards the bakery section of the Lima Heights _Food Value_, people stared because she was still the extraordinary beautiful daughter of the community doctor, but they whispered because she was that "lesbian cheerleader" outed in an ad campaign who had shamed her family.

She had decided that it was no longer something she would let people hold over her, but it still hurt when she was judged and gossiped about so _obviously_.

Fucking Lima Heights. At least in McKinley, her status as Captain of the Cheerios helped her terrorize. At least at home her parents accepted and instilled pride in her. At least she had real friends, in Glee Club of all places.

"It's the _dyke_." The word still made her quiver inside, so much spite in the tone. She turned to see who actually had the guts to face her about it instead of harshly whisper it behind her back (this time).

Hernando. One of the people she used to think of as a friend. Quinn Fabray was a better friend, and that said a lot.

"Hernando."

"Ah! You remember my name," he reeked of cigarettes and the box of soda he was carrying was actually a box of beer that the store owner secretly stashed in the back to sell to minors. Again, Fucking Lima Heights. Kids at McKinley succeeded underage drinking through older siblings and parents. "Say, I'm sure I can fuck the dyke out of you. Let's do it."

Like she hasn't her that before. The natural look of intense disgust that covers her face is enough of an insult for Hernando, and his scoff indicates his manly feelings were hurt.

"Awww leave her alone baby, don't tempt her with what's mine" Hernando's girlfriend, Ava, was labeled Santana's best friend from the age of six. Then Santana left Lima Heights district school to attend McKinley High School because her parents didn't want her getting close to gang-kids and her grandmother didn't want Santana going away for boarding school. When she met Brittany at cheer camp the summer before McKinley, she learned what a true friend was. In comparison, Ava was a conniving bitch.

Then again, in comparison to Brittany there really was no better person.

She reached out and snatched the bread her mother absolutely loved. For the first time in her life - as she saw Ava cling desperately to her boyfriend and him wink roguishly at Santana – she was actually _grateful_ to be a lesbian for a reason that didn't involve Brittany.

Since she came out of the closet she likes to think she's become a better person, someone actually worthy of Brittany's love. The fact that the opinion of these people didn't matter at that precise moment gives her confidence (even though she's pretty sure Hernando is packing a handgun these days).

"Disgusting." She shudders and then adds because she can't help herself, "you _do_ know your boyfriend used to stalk me, right Ava? Obviously that hasn't changed."

They both stutter like fools and Santana is actually surprised Hernando still apparently _crushes_ on her. It's been like, forever since she even gave him a second thought. Creepy.

"He did not!" Ava scoffs, shoving Hernando off of her. Santana smiled at the reaction raising an eyebrow as Ava stepped in front of her.

At school Ava had always had eyes for Hernando, he was considered the stud of studs. He had always crushed on Santana, and Santana had even danced with him once in eighth grade and they kissed for a bit, until he suggested she suck his dick and then she stopped talking to him because _ew_. She has never nor will ever suck a dick, the idea always grossed her the fuck out in ways that going down on a woman never did. _How did she not know she gay back then, again?_

Ava then stopped talking to her out of jealousy and offered to suck Hernando's dick and the rest was history. She met the Unholy Trinity and put the Lima Heights kids behind her to please her family, and her Abuela scared the crap out of Hernando whenever he would creep outside their house so the boyo wisely stayed away. Apparently since her grandmother doesn't love eh anymore, Hernando and Ava have the guts to try and annoy her.

"At least my parents aren't ashamed of me," Ava spat, grinning when Santana flinched. "My grandmother still cooks for me on Sundays, Santana. Everyone knows yours kicked you out."

Santana hadn't expected that. Did the whole fucking town know how she was disowned in a millisecond? Her Abuela was a figurehead of the Lima Heights Church, all Hispanic people she knew in Lima Heights she knew through that Church and her grandmother. Her parents were alienated from the whole social part of Lima, she didn't even know if her parents had a social life outside of travelling the world together.

She didn't go to Church these days either. She only ever went to please her grandmother, but even then she had often used to cheerleading as an excuse to bail. Her parents weren't religious, though she had seen her mother pray on occasion before bed.

Ava took a step forward and hissed, "you think you're better than us? Dr. Lopez must be absolutely _devastated_ to have you as a daughter, at least my Papi is proud of me. I'm no _pecadora._"

"I'm very proud of Santana," her dad's American accent snaps the three's concentration to Dr. Lopez. He's cradling his purchases in his arms and glaring at the two kids.

Santana finds it easier to stand a little taller as her father reams her two ex-childhood friends loud enough for witnesses.

"How _dare you_ say such things to my daughter. Come on Santana, we're leaving." He pauses and says to hit the point home, "Next time police will be involved."

They sit in the car after paying and Santana makes sure the bread isn't crushed in her grip.

"You're a good girl, Santana," her father says as he drives them home. "I know I don't say it to you, but I'm proud of you."

She closes her eyes, "I'm sorry-"

"For what? For getting a scholarship to Louisville? Proving you have brains _and_ beauty?"

Santana lets the compliments wash over her. Finally admitting, "for being… gay, Papi. I'm sorry. I know that people have been saying things… and… Abuela won't even…"

"My mother's older brother was gay, Santana. He committed suicide."

Santana blinks in confusions because, seriously, what the fuck?

"No one in our family ever accepted him and look what happened, he haunts us every day. I have heard worse things from racists than from the bigots here in Lima Heights. And the world is changing, I mean, Brittany is a nice girl and her parents… accept you, don't they? People love tearing somebody down, it makes them feel better about themselves."

She knows this, she's _done_ this herself when she was so mad at the world for making her have all of those _feelings_ inside... God, she really is a terrible, terrible person.

"Do they think I care more for their opinion than I do my own daughter? No, Santana, never. I just want you to be happy… but, maybe you should take some kind of boxing classes or martial arts, Santana, get some fighting spirit in you."

Santana smiles, "if you say so."

They park in their driveway and her father chuckles, "I do! One more thing… don't you ever apologize for being this way again. I'm a doctor, I paid for an education that taught me this is not a disease or something that can be cured. You were born this way, _mija_."

Their first question when she came out to them had been, 'are you sure?' and she was so fucking sure and devastated about the commercial that they hugged her. Then they took her out to dinner and just… _talked_. Her father told her the same thing then that he did now: how in medical school he had learnt that homosexuality was _not_ a disease, not something people could just stop. Her mother, also, had confided that her favourite television characters were always gay.

Brittany had told her on more than one occasion that the _real_ her was the most awesome, ever since ninth grade when Santana stared at Brittany's post-puberty boobs too long. Even the dumbass Finn Hudson who outed her told her that she was more awesome as a lesbian than she was as the superhot girl he managed to lose his virginity to. But maybe that's more because she managed to make him feel utter crap and a used toilet… which made her feel kind of bad.

Somehow, none of that compared to what her father just said. Probably because _now_ she was finally starting to accept herself.

And one thing was finally certain. She would take that scholarship to Louisville, she would wave her pom-poms, and she would study her ass off.

OOO

Brittany S. Pierce's dad was Dutch and her mom was Irish. At least, that was what they said their great-grandparents were back in the pioneer days, so really the two of them considered themselves 'just plain old white Americans' when she asked. She's been to Ireland and the Netherlands and can't pick one she likes more, which is totally how she feel about her parents. And Santana's boobs. Those are the kinds of things you can't love more than the other, she loves her mom and dad equally and, okay, sometimes she favours Santana's right boob because it went through that brief scare in 2010 of having breast cancer (but the summer surgery Santana liked to pretend was just a boob job fixed that and Brittany didn't want the other boob to feel neglected either).

"So like, it's Multicultural week," Brittany is telling her Student Council (she honestly doesn't know any of their names) because since it's her second year as Class President she's actually trying to _do things_. Plus, doing things is the best way to forget how lonely she feels with Santana off at University. "Since my roots are equal parts Dutch and Irish, I'm having a Keg-party at my house this Friday and serving _ontbijtkoek_. Spread the word that to be invited, everybody has to wear something of their ethnicity."

The halls of McKinley are swarming with various ethnic outfits, though Brittany is a little annoyed Blaine wears Scottish Garb instead of Hobbit things, she still hands him an invite to her party. Principal Figgins wears his Traditional Indian clothing with such pride and decides not to have a re-election for Senior Class President because of how successful Brittany is in involving the student body.

Brittany isn't really surprised. She's always been popular and a trend-setter. Rumour has it a bunch of kids worship her so much they want to repeat their senior years too.

She's happy all week, until Santana texts her Friday and apologizes for not being able to make it to her genius multicultural party, which doubly sucks because she had been drinking and was horny too. Santana's coach apparently wants them to make up for a horrible Friday afternoon routine by practicing all day Saturday so Santana won't be in Lima for another twenty-four hours.

Brittany drinks more than she usually does and sobs about it on Sam's shoulder. Cuddling him makes her feel a little better, and on Saturday Santana brings her some flowers and thing are back to normal.

Brittany isn't stupid though. Not having Santana around is getting harder every weekend and it's a new dynamic to their relationship which has always previously sailed smoothly because the distance hadn't existed before.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but distance can sometimes make the heart wander.

OOO

TBC


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N - **Just to acknowledge that, as a hypothetical season 4 rewrite, this story carries on without following the current season. As such, I will likely reference to some episodes but there should be no major season 4 spoilers. Also, I don't know anything about cheerleading so please don't mind how I portray the way the Louisville Cardinals function in this fic.

Two things I am noticeably changing from cannon at this time: 1) I believe Brittany mentions she has a younger sister, but in this fic she does not; 2)Santana's mother will be a different from how she was portrayed on the show

**Disclaimer - **I do not own glee or its characters.

Enjoy :D

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**Chapter 1**

The weekend was two hours away from starting, which for one Santana Lopez meant two hours of cheerleading practice until she could hop in her car and speed off to Lima for the weekend. She liked college, but she liked her weekends back home in Lima better.

Santana was slowly stretching her limbs out at cheerleading practice in Louisville. Being part of the Nation's top cheerleading program gave her a burst of pride, especially since she was there on scholarship, but Louisville was not somewhere she wanted to stay for too long. Thankfully, her Cardinals outfit was much more flattering to her skin tone than her Cheerios one. She looked _good_ in uniform and the non-stop hormonal college guys (and she thinks there were some girls too but she's not sure) that checked her out told her as much.

"Soooo excited for the long weekend!" The saccharine sweet stereotypical blonde captain, Claire, led the team in a series of active stretches while leading the group's conversation at the same time. Santana thinks of _Bring It On_ whenever Claire opens her mouth and tries to pep them all up. She's walked into a cheerleading cliché which, though may be hard to believe, she had never experienced on the Cheerios. That was a different kind of cliche.

Needless to say, she rolls her eyes at Claire's peppy voice.

Santana was one of three new freshmen on the co-ed squad, the other two were guys so really that made her the only new girl, and together they replaced three graduates to keep the numbers at an even twenty privileged athletes. The guys seemed okay enough despite the leering, but the girls weren't actively including her. Not that she _cared._ Okay, maybe she did, just a little.

She had made a good impression on her coach Lauren Martin so far and thus, unfortunately, hadn't really bonded with her teammates since some were jealous of her. At first she had suspicions that it was because she was the _only_ non-white person on the squad on top of proving to be better than pretty much all the senior cheerleaders, but it became pretty obvious that she was just better from all the praise.

Sue Sylvester had trained her well for this stuff after all, and Santana had been a Captain under that woman. Life after that is easy by default.

She had never really been subjected to the kind of racism her parents had, but maybe she needed some racist flack so she could strengthen her character. Her dad has been talking about that a lot lately, ever since she came out of the closet.

Of course, she was just as proud to be Latin as she was to be a lesbian. Not that anyone knew about her sexual orientation on the team… she wasn't about to just announce it, but she was prepared to be honest about it should the need arise. She was relieved it hadn't yet, and that no one seemed to know or recognize her as 'that cheerleader' in a certain, nameless Congress campaign.

It also helped that her new coach was old friends with Sylvester (from ice-fishing in Alaska with Sarah Palin) so they could measure who had the biggest trophy with their weird _cheer-coach-mance_ crap, and Sylvester, who Santana knew secretly loved her, had her back because Santana's success was a direct reflection on her coaching abilities. Rumour has it Sylvester wanted to try a college team for her next National title.

Santana feels eyes on the back of her head and she turns her neck, just in time to catch Claire and Claire's two drones, Sophie and Lindy, look away from her and giggle.

So fucking middle school. She rolls her eyes again and continues stretching, this time fully aware that a handful of football guys have slowed their jog to check her out, wondering out loud who she is because she hasn't been to any of their parties.

"You're all by yourself," Duncan, a nice enough guy who shared his chips with her on the team bus earlier that week, sat down next to her and shyly looked away from her when she raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. Seems you are, too. Why are the guys ignoring you?"

Duncan sighs, "because I'm different. Though I wish it was because I had blackmail on them like you do on the terrible trio."

Santana chuckled, "you know about that?"

"Everyone knows about that!" Duncan offered his fist and Santana bumped it without a second thought.

Last week, Claire and the other girls left Santana at a diner with a five hundred dollar bill. Apparently it was initiation or something to dine and dash on the freshie. She got them all back by cutting the hot water on them in the change room showers, filming their reactions on her phone and threatening to make it viral so they would stop trying to initiate her... And pay her back because her dad was going to flip at seeing her credit card bill for five hundred at a shitty restaurant. If it was _Breadstix_ the old man would probably understand.

So, Claire and the terrible trio already hated her but now pretty much all the other girls did too. Not to mention she's overheard football guys wanting all up on her hotness, which added some jealousy to the other girls' fire considering most of their boyfriends were on the team.

When she told her parents about the dine and dash her first weekend back home and about how she handled it, her dad handed her the keys to his Porsche because he wanted a new car, and sold the second-hand Honda she had been driving for two years. She seriously loved him in that moment. It was his proud little smirk at her devious ways that totally downplayed her mother's "Santana! While I admit that's clever, we do not blackmail in this house, darling. It's not classy. Next time introduce them to the family lawyer."

"There's a party this weekend," Duncan groaned as he mentioned it, "you going?"

She shook her head.

Everyone around them seemed to get excited about this big-ass party with the football team that weekend, but she was looking forward to finally going back home and connecting with… people. And by people she meant Brittany. Skype-ing sucked major because there was no sex or sweet lady kisses to be had, and having to repeatedly explain to Brittany why they couldn't scissor-skype was super frustrating. She really needed some loving, especially after their dream-come-true summer love story. Brittany made her a scrap book and even used her special glitter crayons to archive their amazing summer.

Having her best friend love her back and agree to be her girlfriend had made Santana feel born again. She was so in love and the songbirds were still singing even with the distance. How lucky was she?

"What about you, Santana? You will be at the party, right? It's a rite of passage." George, a muscled male cheerleader that she found more often than not trying to peek up her skirt, included her in the conversation.

And now everyone was staring at her.

Santana had not made anyone cry since she'd been to University (a huge accomplishment), but she knew she wasn't the most welcoming girl and maybe that was also why her teammates walked on their toes around her. But, yeah, mostly it was because she had bested the girls on her squad and got paid double what she was owed… she was badass that way.

"No, sorry guys, I'm going back home this weekend."

"It's a team party," Claire paused her stretch and looked at Santana funny, "you have to go. We can all start fresh… bygones be bygones."

Ugh, yeah, no. Santana has always been a pro at holding grudges. Even when she (finally) had Brittany, she often rubbed it in Artie's face. She was a bitch that way.

"What?" Santana felt the weight of many demanding stares expecting her to agree, but she had already promised Brittany. You don't break promises with Brittany, especially if you want her to kiss you. The week before she had to miss Brittany's ethnic party for extra cheer practice and Brittany kind of gave her the cold shoulder. "Sorry, I can't."

She felt relieved when she wasn't badgered further, proving that she didn't really _have_ to go. Surely her teammates would get over it.

OOO

Brittany S. Pierce is a dancer, a great dancer. Ballet, jazz, hip-hop, tap, fucking ballroom… her dancing drives Santana wild in ways nothing else ever has. Not even _Breadstix._

Brittany has great rhythm from dancing and her dancer's body is so… _so_…

"_Fucking hot_…"

"Mf… San..t'na… _yes…_"

The rhythm they're dancing to right now is a thump, thump, bedsprings, thump which Santana -despite being on top- is being dominated in.

One of the tall blonde's legs is wrapped tightly around Santana's waist while the other is over her shoulder in a great show of flexibility, pulling and pushing at a fast pace while occasionally urging Santana's dextrous left hand on with a salacious whimper.

"S-_So good.._. don't stop baby…"

"Britt… God, Britt I love you…"

"_Uhn_…"

Like that. Goddamn that sexy whimper and those gripping fingernails digging into her scalp and tangling her hair extensions—

_Climax interruptus. _

"You're amazing Britt," Santana eagerly compliments, nibbling on an arching neck.

"That was so hot," Brittany sighs happily as her legs relax, snuggling into Santana who is still dizzy and dazed and agreeing enthusiastically with a nod of her head. She's not sure about Brittany, but she came twice.

Hallelujah.

"Totally… hey, Britt-Britt, not that I don't love it when we totally hook it up and make sexy lady love…"

"Good because I love it too," Brittany is already sitting up and wiping her wet fingers on the duvet cover absently before gathering her discarded clothes.

Santana wants a burger. And some sleep. How Brittany is always so energetic after their romps in Santana's silky black sheets is something she'll never quite understand. It was why Brittany liked morning sex and Santana preferred to keep it closer to bedtime.

"But what's up with you? You seem distracted… and five minutes of sex makes me feel like fast food."

Brittany gives Santana a 'you're being weird again' look which is usually only reserved for when Santana does things like date Karofsky to hide the fact that she's gay, or drunkenly suggest they get eloped and live on a beach in Puerto Rico.

Brittany thought Karofsky was gross and she thinks its rude and traitorous to turn their back on the United States for Puerto Rico, so Santana knows what she said may have upset the girl somehow.

"We've been at it for like…" Brittany checks the digital clock on Santana's nightstand and counts with her fingers, "twenty minutes, not five. I just missed you_, that's all_."

Her pout makes Santana want to slap herself, but she can't help feel confused over their sex-life lately. Even though that double-orgasm round of sex was all kinds of awesome and totally rocked her world, it was… different.

"Britts, I get the sexual frustration," Santana gets lost in precious blue eyes but decides to voice her fear, "but you're in a huge rush to get away from me, which, by the way-why are you in such a rush?"

Doesn't she want to cuddle some? Because Santana wants to cuddle. Right after eating a burger.

Grudgingly, the young Hispanic woman gets out of the warm covers and ties a nearby silk robe around her figure, combing her fingers through her sex hair while Brittany adjusts her skirt. It was such a nostalgic sight, seeing her girlfriend standing there in that red and white McKinley High Cheerios uniform and trying to figure out what to do with her hair after an afternoon quickie… fumbling with the zipper and looking so thoroughly fucked.

"I have Cheerios practice," Brittany says with annoyance at the way her hair as turned static. "Ugh - my hair is a mess! I think your pillows secretly hate me and try to bully me through my hair."

Santana slinks up behind her and takes over, massaging Brittany's head gently before gathering the hair into the standard high pony and lightly disentangling it. She takes a whiff of the hair and is pleased to find it's just as golden and lovely as ever.

Brittany obviously doesn't understand that Santana just wants them to spend more quality time together, so Santana shrugs off her insecurity and decides on another approach.

"Can I come?" She questions lowly, pressing a hot kiss on a delicate throat above an existing hickey.

She had been looking forward to spending time with Brittany all weekend. They were supposed to stay locked up in this room, not fuck fast and then part ways even though the fucking was very much appreciated. That was dangerously close to their relationship _before_ Santana (admittedly) fell in love and magically grew a heart, and that was not a good thing.

"Mm…You're not on the squad anymore," Brittany turns around, leaves a kiss on edible Latin lips and hugs Santana tightly to her body. "Remember? You graduated but I didn't, and you got that Cheer scholarship to Louisville which is, like, a two hour drive from here! I don't think coach will let you practice with us because it's like fraternizing with the enemy."

Santana lets her hands gets frisky with the red spanks under Brittany's skirt, "I know Britt, but after my midterms I have free time and I just want to spend it all with you… I'll just sit in the stands and undress you with my eyes or play _Angry Birds,_ maybe even catch up with Coach Sue. I know she won't mind because you guys are a high school team and I'm a college one so trust me, no fraternizing. Then we can hit up _Breadstix_ and you can order shrimp."

"Oh," Brittany's hands rake through soft black hair, "you mean, like, you just want to watch? Like I'm a movie or something? Like the sexy dance I did on Skype? "

"Exactly," Santana drawls, remembering how she was promised to be given an up-close-and-personal version of that dance at some point, "Let me get dressed and I'll drive you."

"Are you sure because I know you get tired after good orgasms… and mine were great so I'm sure yours were equally great, probably better."

Santana blushes and leans forward for a quick peck of their lips, "I'm sure. I'll drive you."

If Santana was driving, Brittany didn't have to walk twenty minutes to the school so she happily agreed, "I'll make us some sandwiches, you must be hungry... you know, I like the idea of you watching me. I want to show you off to this new girl that _really_ gets on my nerves. Can you scare her like you scare other people who annoy me? Please?"

"Sure I can, and you can show me off all you want… and PB and J for me!" Santana called to her girlfriend that was rushing down the stairs to the kitchen. She cuts of Brittany with a, "please!" before the girl can tease her demanding manners.

If she didn't tell Brittany what she wanted, the blonde was not above putting lucky charms and chocolate sauce in some Wonder Bread. And she would have to eat it too, or Brittany's feelings would be hurt.

As long as she didn't have to eat more raw meat dipped in boiling chocolate.

OOO

Sue Sylvester was eyeing up the fresh Cheerios meat with her best afternoon intimidating look. She was pretty sure she could smell french fries on one of them and that was an unacceptable Cheerios diet! Her newest version of the 'Master Cleanse' had been concocted in the chem lab earlier that week and it was the best version yet.

"Coach," one of her new favourites, Kitty, sidled up next to her and grinned evilly. Sue liked fellow evil and Kitty showed great potential – like some crazy mix of her best and brightest previous captains, Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez. "I just want to take this moment to point out that _Captain_ Brittany isn't here, she even left school grounds during last period _knowing_ we have a super important practice to start our new routine."

"You can point it out if she's not here in five minutes," Sue told the devious blonde that was obviously trying to usurp Brittany as Captain of the Cheerios. Sue liked the bark, but she was wary of the potential bite. Brittany was… sweet, simply put, and a girl that Sue actually knew while Kitty was still fresh and unpredictable.

"Until then, I want to know which one of you decided to hit up McDonalds within the last three hours!"

Brittany would always be 'the one who bought Sue a stuffed unicorn in a Cheerio outfit' to wish her a happy birthday, thinking that Labor Day was Sue's birthday. Sue was a little protective of that Brittany, the one who believed anything Sue Sylvester had to say and naively followed her commands without understanding the ulterior motives (a.k.a. the one who held a soft spot for orphaned baby cannons).

A flash of shiny metal entered the parking lot and Sue couldn't help but smile bemusedly at the sight of a shiny black Porsche 991 convertible that parked, screeching tires and all, obnoxiously right next to her own red, custom track-painted mustang.

Brittany braced her arms on the door and hopped out of the car with a smile much too befitting for the sunny afternoon whilst the driver utilised her door and closed it with a scowl for the ages.

She was about to insult the familiar Santana Lopez whose boob job was just _baiting_ for an insult in such a tight, white v-neck top, but Santana knew her well enough to intercept Sue's afternoon mood swing. In her hand was a Lima Bean tray with two cups, emitting an aroma of sweet caffeine mixed to her favourite sugar-vanilla blend. The extra large better be hers.

"Latte?" Santana pushed her designer sunglasses up into her hair and locked the car doors behind her with the obnoxious beep from her key fob. "Thought I'd make sure they don't suck since I left."

If her years studying FBI profiling taught her anything, Sue Sylvester knew when two people had girl-on-girl sex by mere observation. Hopefully the orgasm would help Brittany concentrate so that Kitty didn't upstage her in practice.

Sue grabbed the larger drink and took a delicate sip, pleased to find cinnamon had been added on top. And more importantly, it was just the right temperature. Scalding.

"I could use another pair of experienced and critical eyes, but I still reserve the right to call you 'Sandbags' and with that right I will tell you, Sandbags, to not leer at my captain because she can't afford a distraction today," she barked before walking off to the field, a kind and rare grin on her lips. She loved her large-ass lattes with cinnamon that burned her tongue on the way down. It was one of her greatest pleasures, right after hate-sex.

Santana couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her mouth when she saw some newbie assistant hustle after Sue with a megaphone and five duffle bags full of God-knows-what. She raised an eyebrow at the looks of awe she was receiving from the other people on the squad, shocked to see a smiling Coach Sue most likely. She missed Cheerios and high school (mostly Glee Club, not that she would admit it out loud to anyone who wasn't _in_ Glee Club with her), but at the same time not really. It was kind of weird to be back, especially weird that Brittany was still here.

"Hey Santana," Marianne, a senior now that had always been one of their best gymnasts, came forward and greeted Santana with a shy but genuine smile. "I want to hug you for getting her that latte. You're my _hero_."

"Twenty laps less, you're welcome," Santana greeted her and a few other girls she knew from her own time on the Cheerios with a nod and grin. She fell in step with Brittany next to her, the blonde's hand instantly connecting their pinkies while she texted someone on her iPhone.

Santana was awestruck that she even smiled at Brittany's little action. This was normalish behaviour, a far cry from how things between them have been lately. They don't talk anymore or simply hold pinkies… usually its texts of 'when are you coming back' or 'are you free this weekend' and if yes, then figuring out when and where to have sex before homework, co-curriculars, or family occupy their time.

Two months of weekend visits and it takes driving Brittany to an impromptu Cheerios practice to finally link pinkies. Was she missing something?

"How's Louisville cheerleading?"

"It's pretty fun," Santana tellsMarianne, letting Brittany steal a sip of her own latte and grinning at the flirtatious wink sent her way for the indirect kiss. "Trust me, if any of you guys take up cheering in college, Coach prepares you well. I'm better than, like, everyone on my squad... and bitchier too. And that's being modest."

Marianne laughed, looking relieved. She was probably hoping her spot on a National winning cheer team would get her a scholarship like Santana.

Santana wishes she could take the credit for that, but she's happier bragging to anyone who'll listen that her girlfriend is the genius who did it for her. When Santana had revealed that to her parents, they were much nicer to the girl in general, which she hadn't noticed was a lacking trait until they invited her over for dinner. Her parents thought Brittany was dumb and not a smart choice of girlfriend until Santana told them that, and now it was like they were constantly over-compensating by telling Santana to buy more flowers or dinners for the blonde.

"I'm probably going to apply to Louisville too," she shyly told Santana. "That would be awesome to cheer with you again!"

"Hurry up!" A megaphone's yell got the girls rushing their steps. "My grandfather is faster than you ladies and he has five congenial diseases!"

Brittany kissed her cheek quickly and pressed her cell phone in Santana's free hand with a roguish wink before bending over to stretch her legs, touching her toes and peeking flirtatiously up at Santana through her legs.

Santana sighed, totally in love with the sight, but with their pinkies no longer linked she was once again feeling that lately Brittany was always turning everything they did together into sex.

God, why was she so insecure?

Britt wasn't telling her something and Santana's imagination wasn't very good at concocting _why_ that may be.

Long-distance relationships kind of sucked that way.

"So, you're the famous – or should I say _infamous_, what with that political add campaign that still runs on YouTube – Santana Lopez. Trying to relive high school glory days?"

A short, obnoxiously stout blonde that looked like Quinn Fabray's long-lost piggy twin sister played with her ponytail in a gesture Santana remembers doing herself. This was, obviously, the girl that Brittany wanted to 'show her off' to. Hence the stretching.

Brittany was sly, and her pointed look at Santana proved that. She wanted Santana to bitch out at the little blonde.

"You aren't like, _perving_ on us, are you? You probably think you can get away with it because your girlfriend's head is in the clouds, but I'm a devout Christian and I hope you can respect that."

Santana wasn't sure what her reaction was going to be because, while she was fully capable of rolling her eyes and proceeding to make tiny-tots-Fabray over there cry with a few trade insults, the rules changed when someone talked about Brittany like that. Shit just got real. Pain was necessary.

The chattering around them stopped and out of the corner of her eye Brittany's feelings were obviously hurt at the jab of her intelligence. She did the same chin-to-chest tilt she does when Mufasa dies in Lion King or when she hears someone call her stupid.

Santana's eyes hardened and she took a threatening step forward, pleased when the blonde gulped in fright and backed away—

"Santana," Brittany grabbed her arm and gave her an odd look that somehow told Santana _don't even think about it_. Brittany hated violence and Santana was just about to dump her hot liquid drink over Kitty's pretentious head. "I know she looks like the ugly smurf and you wouldn't be caught dead checking her out-"

Kitty's eyes widened considerably and Marianne giggled along with a few others (half because they knew angry Santana from experience and seeing her mighty roar turn into a purr under Brittany's hand was pretty weird even though they'd seen it before, and half because Brittany was so honest that her insults somehow ended up being the best) causing the young blonde to blush in embarrassment.

"—but it's not her fault and its mean to pick on little people no matter how much they want you to."

Santana put on her most devilish of faces, glaring at Kitty as she spoke harshly, "I wasn't going to _maim_ her, Britt. I was just going to help her _understand_ that if she _ever_ talks about you like that again I'll make her wish she was never born. I mean, you're the one who knows how _infamous_ I am, right _smurfette_? Do I need to waste anymore of my breath on you and go into details?"

"Alright Lopez, I appreciate the discipline but Kitty there needs to be conscious when we toss her in the air. Chop-chop ladies!" Sue was in-between them because Brittany was enjoying watching Santana go all (somewhat tamed) Lima-Heights on Kitty's ass. Without Santana around, Brittany had been losing some of her confidence, but after that display she felt like she was on cloud nine. Santana had always defended her when people tried to bully or ridicule her, ever since they met.

Having Santana around just made her feel stronger. It was love, obviously. It just needed a boost like her car did when she left the dashboard light on overnight and it wouldn't start the next day.

"She'll never stop calling us all ladies, will she?" Josh, one of the male Cheerios, huffed loudly under his breath as he massaged an ache in his foot. "H-Hey Santana."

"Hey," Santana wasn't sure what his name was but she smiled anyways before finally taking a seat. She watched Brittany, who now had an extra bounce in her step, trade small gossip with the other seniors on the squad and laugh.

"Now," Sue sipped loudly from her latte and stood next to Santana in the bleachers, "I'm going to make at least three people cry, any wagers?"

Santana raised her eyebrows, "Britt doesn't cry, does she?"

"Brittany wouldn't be captain if she cried, Sandbags, no need to go all caveman for your woman. I think you've done enough of that today, don't overkill it."

The Latina blushed, lowly admitting that "I just worry about her… I'm not here all the time anymore and… yeah… she's been different around me lately. Less talkative about school."

"I don't want to play lesbian councillor," Sue rolled her eyes, "especially since Sue Sylvester doesn't do relationships nor is she a lesbian. You might want to ask someone who cares about your love life."

Santana rolled her eyes and scanned the group, "You _do_ care, but I'll let you pretend you don't. Far right redhead, blonde with the slumped high-pony and… boy that just threw-up with the hideous sideburns... how did someone with sideburns make the Cheerios? Twenty bucks."

"Make that thirty. The judge at Regionals this year had massive sideburns; I'm playing to the crowd and apparently only one kid has the ability to grow them out."

OOO

_Breadstix,_ at least, was as delicious as ever. Louisville didn't have a _Breadstix_ which, in Santana's opinion, was a crime against humanity almost worse than the possibility that the water supply was connected to horse shit from the Kentucky Derby Stables.

"Hey guys," a familiar but not really voice called them out, and Santana was surprised to see Sam Evans in his football jacket with a good-looking woman on his arm.

"It's Beib-alicious," she teased, holding in the urge to call him Trouty Mouth in front of his date. She was trying to grow as a person.

"I don't have Beiber hair anymore," he defends, pointing a finger to his new haircut that actually looked pretty good.

"Hey Sam," Brittany got up from the booth and hugged him quickly, "want to join us?"

"Sure," he slid in across from Santana and awkwardly looked at his hands as his date sat next to him.

"Hey Tara," Brittany greeted the girl with brown hair dropping at her shoulders.

"It's Sarah," the girl corrected, looking confusedly at Brittany and then back at Sam.

"It is? Are you like, related to Tara on the cheerleading squad?"

Santana tuned out the conversation and leaned back in her booth. She was annoyed Brittany invited them to share a table, she wanted some goddamn _alone_ time with her girlfriend on their first _date_ in like, forever. Was that too much to ask?

"We don't even look alike," Sarah said, with a hint of condescension. "So no."

"But your names rhyme," Brittany accuses her, with more than a hint of condescension.

"Uh…"

"Oh peachy, it's you," the old blonde woman that was forever cursed with waitressing to Santana Lopez had her pen ready with narrowed eyes. "I'll make sure there's no _mouse_ in your food."

_"Breadstix_ and salad for me, linguini for her… one coke, one shrimp cocktail and don't give me that crap," Santana stared back at the woman with a cheeky smile, "I may be conniving but I tip you well."

"Yes, yes you do," the woman hides a smile before turning her attention to a confused Sam and Sarah who stuttered and rushed to pick something out from the menu.

Brittany yawned as the waitress left them alone, trying to catch a quick nap on her arms. Santana's hand easily moved to tuck some hair behind her ear, rubbing gentle circles on her back to help her sleep.

"Tired Britt?" Sam asked her with concern, "you yawn a lot lately."

Santana felt a burn of jealousy wash through her. She wasn't around enough to _know_ when Brittany yawned. She was pretty sure she saw something- _something_ _suspicious_ -glint in Sam's eyes when he looked at her Britt-Britt.

"I _am_ tired," Brittany raised her head and looked unbearably adorable with slightly red eyes and a pout, "this day has just been the longest Friday ever! I had Cheerios practice in the morning for two hours and then I had to come up with all of our Glee routines during my free lunch hour which is super hard without Mike helping me, not to mention Santana and I had energetic sex-"

Santana dropped her hand in shock from the comment and looked up the ceiling, pretty sure she was blushing. She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to play it cool.

"—instead of the lazy, romantic kind and then I had _another_ practice after school. And now we have to go to Blaine's party."

Sam's cheek flushed and he cleared his throat whilst Sarah seemed incredibly flustered and looked between Brittany and Santana in fascination… or something.

"We can go home if you want," Santana offered under her breath, leaning over to whisper to Brittany. "I don't want to tire you out."

Brittany shook her head and groaned, "ijusgwannabeethyou. Awake."

Her heart fluttered, suddenly feeling less insecure. Maybe no one else understood her, but Brittany _just wanted to be with her_. She felt some tension between them break at Brittany's admission and suddenly she wasn't 'college' Santana, she was just 'Santana' with her girlfriend.

Santana laughed, "wanky."

Brittany burst in a fit of giggles as their drinks arrived, nudging Santana playfully in the ribs before grabbing her arm since Santana was the better pillow than a table at _Breadstix._ Like linking pinkies, the action soothed Santana even more than words and sex.

"Plus we _have_ to go to Blaine's, it'll be like old times because Puck will be there a-and so will Mercedes. They drove down from L.A." Brittany crunched on her first shrimp.

Santana nodded, finding Brittany's sudden enthusiasm infectious. Plus, some drinking sounded like a good way to unwind.

"So, Trout—ugh, Sam," Santana gave him a small wince at her almost slip of the tongue which surprised him, "swear you graduated but… whatever. How's senior year?"

"It's, ugh, awesome Santana," he took a long sip of his drink, "I'm quarterback now… Glee is still fun but it's not the same without all of you guys."

"Yeah, it really sucks without you," Brittany looked down at their hands on Santana's lap and started playing with her fingers. "I miss Quinn and Mike Chang and Kurt's funny outfits. And you're not there to buy me food anymore and sing me songs."

"I miss it too," Santana grudgingly admits, "I keep up with my singing though…"

Brittany smiled brightly and pulled her into a sweet kiss, but Santana politely kept it short because they had company and because they were in public. She squeezed the hand on her thigh and took a sip of her drink.

She quirked an eyebrow when she noticed Sam look a little sad, and really, she had only ever dated him for like… sexuality-crisis and pissing-off-Quinn purposes. There was no love to have ever lost between them, so why was he...?

"No way," she murmured, remembering how Brittany had lately talked about Sam like they were _friends_. Blonde besties or something ridiculous like that.

"Did you say something, sexy?"

Santana shook her head, snickering at how Brittany's nickname got them blushes from their audience of two. Brittany didn't understand why people called each other things like 'muffin' or 'sweetie' or 'baby' so she had started testing out random relationship names.

Santana was just glad she would never call her 'dildo' again. That one time was mortifying enough, even though they were alone and no one witnessed it except Patches, the homeless guy outside the _Lima-Buy-Ma_ convenience store that barked.

"So _Trouty_ _Mouth_," all pretences of nice were gone because Santana was pretty sure Sam Evans, who don't like green eggs and ham Sam Evans, was crushing on her girlfriend. Not cool. "Where'd you meet Sarah?"

"Oh!" Brittany smiled brightly, "are you guys dating? That's cute."

"We're not!" Sam blurted out, flustered. "We're just hanging out. Sarah might join Glee Club, Britt."

"What he said," Sarah added. "I sing at my church choir and would love to try singing something not so… you know. Old."

"Mr. Schue should be over his Journey days by now," Santana jested, hating to admit she actually liked those old school tunes.

"I think we should sing 'Me against the Music' together," Brittany excitedly grabbed Santana's arm. "Blaine has karaoke, he said everyone who comes has to sing at least once and we've been doing that one together since we started having sex in your car and replayed it over and over again. We're really hot when we do it."

"Whatever you want," Santana agreed. She knew all the words to that song which was a plus, and when they were goofing around Brittany made her dance and sing along to a lot of songs, it was where they became so musical. It was their first foreplay together.

With a squeal, Brittany pecked Santana's lips quickly and proceeded to charm Sam and Sarah with her excitement as she went into detail about a new movie they had all seen.

Santana spent too much time analyzing how Sam Evans looked adoringly at her girlfriend, that she didn't realize how her hand slipping from Brittany's thigh caused a pout.

OOO

Santana was surprised to hear her doorbell go off later that night at nine in the evening. Brittany was fast asleep in her bed for a recharge nap before they were going to Blaine's. She disentangled their limbs, careful not to wake Brittany so the tired blonde could sleep for another hour or two, and then rushed down the steps wondering if her mom forgot her keys or something. She opened the door and smiled in confusion. She recognised the tall, older blonde woman in front of her… but not really. She was _hot_ though.

"You must be Santana," the blonde held out a plate and the fresh smell of cookies wafted up from beneath the saran wrap, "I noticed your light was on from next door, my parents' house."

Next door meant the polite Dystra family which meant this hot blonde was none other than-

"Candace?" Candace Dystra, the runner –up for Miss Ohio in 2006, and blonde bombshell that Santana had always (unconsciously) drooled over. Her window had a clear view of Candace sunbathing (sometimes naked) by her pool in the backyard, she couldn't have really helped it.

The blonde woman smiled, "you're all grown up now, I wasn't sure you would remember me!"

"You babysat a few times," Santana opened the door wider and let Candace inside. "Of course I remember you."

She leaves out the part where she almost didn't.

"These are for you guys, chocolate chip cookies. Mother wants to invite you all to our post-Thanksgiving dinner party next Saturday and she specifically asked me to let you knew that your plus one is _more_ than welcome. We've invited the Pierces anyhow!"

Santana flushed lightly. Not a lot of people approved of her coming out at all (her abuela disowned her and her father for it), but no one really publicly denounced her and Brittany to their face. Santana was sure that people talked about them behind their back and that for a lot of last year they were the damn scandal of the town because of Reggie 'The Sauce' Salazar and how he publicly outed Santana.

Everyone in Lima knew about it by now, first because of the campaign ad and more importantly because Brittany showed her off and when your girlfriend is Brittany S. Pierce, youngest daughter of Bradford H. Pierce who owned most of Lima, there was no escaping the local public eye.

The Pierces were Lima royalty.

"Thanks, they should be back from dinner soon if you want to wait, or you can leave if you're busy," she quickly asserted. It was much easier to be nice to pretty women, except when they're bitches like Quinn or Claire. Or annoying like Rachel.

"I'll wait, not a problem," was the instant reply. Santana led the older woman into the kitchen and gestured for her to take a seat at the island. She noticed the older woman glance around, probably noticing all the redecorations. The Lopez house was spotless, like it was on display, which it kind of was because no one really lived in it and her mother used a catalogue to decorate.

"So, would you like some tea or coffee? Juice?"

"Look at you, so courteous!" Candace teased in a slight southern drawl from her younger years that hadn't entirely disappeared, "You once filled my shoes with mud, you know? I'd love some coffee, thank you. One sugar and some skim milk, if you have it."

"Ugh," Santana blushed at the memory, she had also done a lot worse than that but apparently had never been caught, "yes, I know, I was pretty… _wild_. Sorry about the shoes."

"Not at all," Candace giggled, "we live just a block from Lima Heights, worse things have happened."

Santana couldn't help but return the grin. They lived on a cul-de-sac that had the only four large houses in Lima Heights and had been subjected to more than one case of property vandalism over the years until security cameras were set up and culprits were caught more often. It's been relatively left alone ever since.

"San?"

Brittany wandered into the kitchen as Santana put the kettle on, rubbing some light sleep from her eyes and looking dangerously sexy in her kind of messy bed hair and short-shorts. Her body was shown off in a way that made Santana feel embarrassed but oddly proud about. The amused smile Candace shot her made her lean towards proud. It was nice when even one person went out of their way to make her feel normal about the whole lesbian thing.

"Hey, did we wake you?"

Brittany noticed the company and smiled shyly, crossing her arms in front of her, "no, daddy just called and he wants to speak to you about something so I told him you'd call back. I heard voices, I thought it was your mom."

Santana's eyebrows raised in surprise at this request. The Pierce family was nice to Santana considering the whole lesbian scandal thing, but she had only met Brittany's parents a few times. They were busy people, and maybe this was Bradford H. Pierce finally having time to take Santana up on the offer of meeting her parents.

Their individual parental approval was a big, fat blessing that protected Santana and Brittany when their relationship went public. It was quite possibly the reason why people like the Dystra family were inviting them for dinners and bringing cookies. Her father was a doctor, and Brittany's parents employed a lot of people in Lima so it really did help their situation.

She got along well enough with Bradford Pierce and the man was surprisingly comfortable with his daughter's bisexuality label, but he was still the _father_ of her girlfriend.

Still. Of the short list of people that had been able to intimidate Santana Lopez, Bradford was one of three (Sue wasn't as intimidating now that Santana wasn't a Cheerio, and her Abuela refuses to acknowledge her so, yeah, really it was only him now).

"Oh…_kay_…"

"I'm Candace Dystra, I don't think we've properly met, Brittany," Candace politely held out her hand for the adorably sexy Brittany. "You were nominated for Miss Ohio, right? I'm one of the judges this year."

"Cool," Brittany grinned, shaking hands amiably.

Santana's jaw dropped. Brittany was running for Miss Ohio? What the actual fuck? How did she not _know_ that?

She decided not to comment and set about making Candace some coffee. With a silent signal of her pinky making a sipping motion to ask if Brittany wanted anything to drink, Brittany nodded once and Santana made her girlfriend some coffee as well.

She shook her head as the thought of Sam's crush entered her mind. She was the only person who made Britt coffee, that hadn't changed.

"Oh these are delicious," Brittany was complimenting the cookies.

Santana served the two women their beverages and excused herself after trying a cookie and complimenting Candace as well, finding it cool that the woman was so normal and not at all awkward like her other neighbour who Santana is pretty sure sent a Jehovah's Witness to their door.

She left the two to chat about Miss Ohio, Candace giving Britt a few tips that Brittany in turn looked really into understanding. There was some talk of swimsuits and Santana mentally made sure she was free that weekend.

She called Bradford back when she made it to her bedroom, closing the door and looking through her closet for something super hot to wear. She had to be super hot tonight to successfully rub her relationship with Brittany in Sam's face.

"This is Bradford," his happy, ready for business voice coasted through the line.

"Hey, it's Santana-"

"Santana! How are you? How's college, thanks for calling back so soon. I told Britt there was no rush but you know her, if she doesn't forward the message right away she'll forget about it."

"Right," Santana agreed.

"So listen, the reason I called is because my sister-in-law Lauren is on the board of the Ohio Charitable Committee this year and she's hosting a big gala event that the Pierce family will be sponsoring. You interested?"

"Interested… with what?"

"Lauren Martin? She's your Cheer coach."

"My coach is your sister-in-law?" Santana is a little outraged. Is that how Brittany got the idea to send her on a scholarship? Is that why Lauren favours her?

Is she being spoon fed?

Santana Lopez doesn't need to be babied!

"Yeah, that's the one," Bradford is entirely oblivious to her small mental breakdown. "Which brings me to my next point. She's having your cheer-squad perform and run point of the next event to promote their image. The gala is for Homosexuality-Awareness. The Senator will be there, among other politicians, it's a huge deal and I'll be shaking hands non-stop as a sponsor. So, I am personally requesting you volunteer to speak because that campaign ad that ran last year makes you a small celebrity teen in Ohio as a gay kid, and Britt suggested your Glee Club could perform too which I think is a fantastic idea – what _is_ a Glee Club? George, have Michaels revise the last chart ASAP—anyways, Brittany is too nervous for public speaking but I have faith in you, Santana, it will really mean a lot. I can't think of a better person to represent me and the city of Lima. You're the obvious choice, considering."

Well, shit.

"It'll be closer to Christmas time, you'll be the event host and give a little speech, in case you're wondering on how busy you'll be."

What can she say to that, to the man who looked out for her instead of destroying her when he found out she was lady-boning his baby girl? He had the power to crush her and instead he invited her over for dinner and asked about her grades and favourite music.

"I'm honoured... but I… you know what? Yes. I'll do it."

She thinks she just screwed herself over. Then again, that's one way to come out to her cheerleading squad, hosting an event they'll be fundraising for.

The door opens and her girlfriend walks in, shutting the door. "Your parents are home, so Candace is talking to them now… what did daddy want?"

Santana sighs, "You know what he wanted."

"Did you say yes?" Brittany's arms are around her neck, "because I think it's a great idea. You can inspire others with your awesome… and stuff."

Brittany is always pushing her out of her comfort zone, but Santana can't hate her for it. Sometimes she thinks Brittany is the real criminal mastermind.

OOO

"This is way too awesome!" Blaine is clapping his hands enthusiastically. "It'll be televised and everything!"

Santana had told their friends at Blaine's about the suggestion that New Directions performs a Christmas event for Homosexuality-Awareness. Brittany was off-the-walls excited and they had decided to just use routines they knew from the 'original' group, so they were going to get in touch with everyone to see if those that left Lima would be able to make it back for the holidays and attend the gala.

She wouldn't admit it out loud, but Santana missed them all. Puck's pool cleaning business didn't really kick off so he was helping out at Burt's garage in the meantime and Mercedes still drove down some weekends, but it wasn't the same as having Finn, Quinn, Rachel, Mike, and Kurt there too.

"Here," Puck offers her his joint. "Its good stuff, you look like you need a hit."

Santana frowns, "I really shouldn't. We have random drug testing."

"It's the weekend, this stuff'll be out of your system come Monday, Lopez. Just drink water non-stop and pee it all out."

She _did_ just get drug tested on Wednesday, it's not likely that….

"Sure, why the hell not—mmph!"

Her lips are cut off as Brittany starts devouring them, and Santana vaguely hears Puck whistle but she lets the ravishing continue. It was hot and spontaneous. She was always the one instigating kisses lately so she welcomed the moment.

"I'm so happy daddy loves you so much," Brittany murmurs in between quick smacks of her lips. "You're the only relationship I've had he approves of, did you know that?"

And Santana does know that. It might not seem like a big deal to most, but to them – Santana and Brittany – it was a _huge_ deal. They never in a million years thought their families would be so accepting of them (though Mrs. Pierce was a little weird about it).

Brittany didn't have the awards and trophies her older brother and sister had decorating their rooms, she didn't have the same grades and was the babied child of the family, treated like a little girl more than a woman and coddled like a foolish princess.

To her especially it meant the world that her parents loved Santana and trusted her when they didn't approve of her older brother Benjamin S. Pierce's hot and smart surgeon fiancée or her sister Bethany S. Peirce's douche-bag millionaire husband. They liked Santana; cutthroat, bitchy, on a scholarship, Hispanic, very female and very witty Santana.

"I know Britt-Britt," Santana murmured during a quick gasp of air before she had to grab Brittany's hand and make sure the beer bottle wouldn't spill on her. "I'm happy too."

She saw Sam watching them with a frown out of the corner of her eye and hoped he was insanely jealous that she had Brittany straddling her lap and not his. She was a bitch that way.

"So you're not mad?" Brittany looks afraid of the answer.

Santana was mad, but now she understands where Brittany is coming from and she's had time to cool down.

"Not anymore, but maybe give me a heads up next time?"

"What was that?" Brittany giggles before whispering naughtily, "give you head?"

They stand up and announce they have to talk in private while Blaine drunkenly protests, but Brittany leads them to the upstairs bathroom for privacy that doesn't involve talking.

Her plan to not be mad, especially after Brittany's spent five minutes with her head between Santana's legs, fails.

It's the alcohol, really, because when she's drunk Santana is a hysterical weeping mess after her orgasm.

"I didn't tell her we're dating," Brittany tries to reason, "I just told her that, since the Cheerios are so awesome, she should look at our awesome captain's resume. She didn't pick you because of family, Santana, she picked you because your grades were good and you're the captain of a national winning team. I swear."

"B-but you tried to get rid of me! Just admit it! All we do is have sex now, Britt, and Lord Tubbington ate the roses I bought you last week," Santana sniffles, unaware that their conversation is the center of the party now. "And fucking Trouty Mouth is trying to steal you from me!"

Heads spin in shock at Sam whose face has gone pale, confirming that he's not entirely innocent.

"Now you're being silly," Brittany uses her sleeve to wipe Santana's eyes, "Sam is just my friend."

Santana manages to stop crying for a second before she bursts into sobs again, "now my cup is empty and I'm thiiiirsty!"

"Dude, you and Brittany?" Puck harshly whispers at Sam. "Not cool to try and steal someone else's girl."

No one points out how Puck knocked up Quinn Fabray while she was dating Finn Hudson. It's a pretty redundant argument these days.

Sam swallows dryly, "n-no! I…"

"Santana doesn't make stuff up, she's freakishly good at knowing what people want," the Mohawk boy points out bluntly, "you _do_ have a thing for Brittany. One bro to another, don't go there. Santana will castrate you."

"You think I have a chance?" Sam asks, looking back at his competition who is still crying. He feels a swell of hope at Brittany's exasperated face, which possibly meant Santana was annoying her and they'd fight about it soon. "I mean, Santana is so… _mean_. Brittany could do better. I really, honestly, _like her_."

"Asshole," Mercedes mumbles, bitter over how Sam used to be crazy for her and amazed that he is obviously considering being a home-wrecker.

"Brittany!" Santana desperately says, loud and with everyone's attention, "will you marry me?"

"What?" Brittany squeaks out, rightfully flabbergasted.

"Please?" Santana whimpers, "I'll take good care of you and we can go on a honeymoon to some warm beach and have sex under that stars… and you'd look so pretty in a dress…"

Brittany giggles, "are you trying to convince me to elope with you Puerto Rico again because we talked about that… plus we already have sex under the stars."

"Too much information," Tina frowns.

"Not enough," Puck goes for a high-five with Mercedes, but she glares at him so he high-fives himself.

"I used to date her, you know," Artie slurs. "I regret calling her stupid and getting dumped. She's so hot… I miss sex."

"She cheated on you with Santana the entire time," Tina pointed out. "Aren't you trying to get with Sugar, Artie?"

Artie hides his face with his hands, "I don't know what I'm doing. I need a girlfriend. I'm so drunk right now..."

"Marriage is for suckers," Puck pours himself another drink, raising his voice so Santana can hear his opinion of her dumbass proposal, but she's too busy crying to react.

"A-Are you saying no?" Santana's lower lip trembles in horror, and she's standing up now and once again everyone is eavesdropping.

"Of course I'll marry you," Brittany jumps up quickly, cuddling her girlfriend. "But I don't want to get married now. We'll get married in the future when we want to have lady babies and when we have jobs and I finally graduate high school-"

"I'll get you a super big diamond ring," Santana announces as if that will change Brittany's mind, "and I'll get on my knees and-and we'll get married with the ducks like you always wanted."

Brittany takes a step back and looks at Santana oddly before saying, "that's… Santana, that's so sweet!"

They're making out and into their own world, leaving Puck to slap Sam's head and dutifully tell him, "you have _no_ chance. If I was Brittany I'd marry Santana based on looks alone. Could do without the drunk crying, but even that is surprisingly hot."

Sam tries not to watch Brittany who is now climbing on Santana's lap again. Everyone else is watching with horror and awe, and Puck is taking pictures.

"Don't worry Sam," Tina pats his thigh, "there's someone out there for everyone."

"Ugh, GROSS SANTANA, GET A ROOM," Sugar drunkenly yells from her position of lying on the floor.

"Use my brother's," Blaine adds, "It's the first on the left upstairs."

TBC


End file.
